


Little mischief.

by DeadDrabble (MisakillDatMonkey)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alcohol, Anal Sex, Canon Universe, Drunk Sex, EJP Suna Rintarou, Established Relationship, M/M, PWP, Party, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Power Bottom!Suna Rintarou, Semi-Public Sex, Student Miya Osamu, Suna wears make-up better than I do
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:00:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28490544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MisakillDatMonkey/pseuds/DeadDrabble
Summary: Suna loves to know that no matter how many times he tries to rile Osamu up, there always will be consequences.And they'll always be delightful.
Relationships: Miya Osamu/Suna Rintarou
Comments: 14
Kudos: 289
Collections: SunaOsa





	Little mischief.

Suna painted nails leave eight red marks in their wake when they rake the curve at the small of Osamu’s back. It makes him shiver, moan in the crook of Suna’s neck but Suna barely hears it when he lets out a loud gasp. 

Osamu’s hand flies to his mouth to muffle the sound as he continues to drive inside his lover at a tantalizing pace. He grinds his hips, reaching so deep that Suna’s back soon arches off the bed permanently, hands roaming Osamu’s back to cling onto him, keeping himself as close as possible to his lover.

His head is spinning a little, his mind buzzing and there’s no blaming it on the alcohol anymore. Not with what he had nor when. Suna sure drank his share but... He feels drunk like that whenever Osamu gets under his skin that way. He doesn’t know if it’s the music downstairs or his heartbeat that’s pulsing so loud in his ears. It’s too hot to breathe and he can’t get rid of half their clothes. It’s so much to take in, but nothing matters. The only thing Suna focuses on is the way Osamu fucks him deep and slow on a stranger’s bed when he was supposed to give him a quick blowjob in the bathroom and be done with it.

Osamu’s jeans rasp against the sensible skin of his inner thighs so Suna has to hook them higher around his lover’s back. Osamu choses that moment to slide his hands under his ass and drag Suna higher up the bed.

The athlete remembers to grasp Osamu’s sweatshirt to keep it under them. They’re a pair of stupid animals so they can't really pride themselves in having some manners but Suna won’t be caught defiling someone else’s bed.

Osamu drops Suna in the middle of the bed, shoving himself back inside him with a sharp snap of the hips that has Suna hurting his neck from how fast he throws his head back, mouth falling open in a silent cry.

Osamu’s lips latch on his pulse point, closing and sucking a mark in the pale column of Suna's neck. His palm is back over Suna’s mouth, for valid reasons. Suna knows Osamu can feel under his tongue more than he can hear the throaty moans the athlete can’t hold back. 

He’s no longer grinding slowly, Osamu is fucking him at a punishing pace. Not that Suna knows what he did to earn that.

Apart from when he shamelessly and unnecessarily licked his own fingers clean from salt and lemon for a whole _minute_ without ever breaking eye contact. Looking back there was no reason to suck on his middle finger so enthusiastically while Osamu was stuck in between two of his many classmates attending tonight’s party to do another tequila shot. Putting on a show like that was deliberate, Suna’s poker face while he was acting like a whore in front of his boyfriend was deliberate… Everything tonight was deliberate from the moment he did his sharpest eyeliner job ever in Osamu’s little bathroom to the moment he whispered in Osamu’s ear that it was _a little too hot in here,_ that he was _so thirsty_ while grabbing his boyfriend by the dick in the middle of the crowded improvised dance floor.

Right. Maybe Suna _earned_ the pounding. But he thought Osamu would wait for them to be back in his apartment at least. 

The athlete is staying over for his whole four days break and in two days they’ve already fucked on every surface of Osamu’s little flat. Suna likes it, he’d only seen it through facetime calls until now, since Osamu moved in, and it’s a lot nicer in reality ; especially when you can give it such a thorough inspection.

Then again, they should be doing that over there _now,_ instead of acting like two horny bastards who can’t keep it in their pants in a stranger’s bed who was nice enough to host a cool party for them to get drunk at. Suna has little shame, though, and it’s so easy to enable Osamu that it’s laughable at this point.

Suna isn’t laughing right now, though. He’s barely able to gasp for air under Osamu’s ruthless attention, closing his eyes in the relative darkness. He feels him inside, filling him entirely. He feels every inch of Osamu moving inside him and only focuses on that. Suna is so exposed...

His throat is still completely exposed but it’s making it harder to breathe. He can’t really stop craning his neck though, not with how Osamu thrusts relentlessly, pushing him into the mattress over and over.

A hand snakes under Suna’s nape, knots at the back of his head and finally allows him to try and look up at his boyfriend who looks entranced. Osamu’s hand keeps on travelling along the back of his head, his temple, his thumb brushing his cheekbone and the corner of his eye, probably ruining a little more Suna’s already smeared make-up.

“So gorgeous, Rin,” Osamu groans precisely at that instant and nevermind the unfocused drunken gaze or the dark stripes under his green eyes.

The love of his life is looking at him like Suna is the eighth wonder of the world. 

How he’d wish to answer that but Suna is breathless, at a loss for words and Osamu is fucking him senseless so he drags him down instead. He traps his boyfriend between his thighs and rolls them over in the blink of an eye.

Crazy core strength ought to be useful outside of the court. 

He’s even dizzier from the shift but being able to breathe again clears his head enough for Suna to dare look down, blink at Osamu and press a finger to his lips.

His hand then drops from his mouth to Osamu’s clothed chest, the fabric of his tee-shirt muffling slightly the slapping sound. Suna’s painted nails dig in the material, grounding himself before he pushes on his knees and starts bouncing on Osamu’s cock. He throws his head back again, in delight, when he aims for shallow, sharp thrusts, hitting his prostate over and over.

They’re already ruining Osamu’s sweatshirt, and now they’re about to ruin his tee-shirt too…

Osamu’s hands clamp down Suna’s slim waist. He’s always loved grabbing him by the waist when Suna preferes to cling onto his boyfriend’s broad shoulders, which he does, leaning in slightly so his hands slide to settle over them.

That way he presses him into the mattress mercilessly, using him for leverage. And Osamu seems to enjoy it more than anything seeing his feverish gaze. He helps Suna fuck himself on his cock, pumping his hips at a matching pace, thumbs digging above Suna’s hipbones.

Their breathing gets as erratic as the way Osamu pounds into Suna and Suna is grateful for the heavy bass pulsing downstairs because there’s no holding back the little groans and shameless moans that fill the room slowly but surely.

“There, _right_ _there_ Osamu, oh _fuck,”_ Suna can’t stop chanting.

Osamu is too far gone to tell him to shut up and he joins the stupid concerto when Suna parts his legs to sink down his cock all the way and take him in entirely. A strangled gasp, a little whine, two shaky breaths then the silence settles back on them for a second only before Suna resumes the brutal pace.

This time Osamu reaches so deep, and he feels so full, that his vision gets dotted with white little stars on each back and forth. There are eight matching marks on Osamu’s abs where Suna tries to hold on poorly. It’s not long before he falls over, spreading his legs completely to let Osamu invade him in every possible way. 

His boyfriend bends his knees, wraps his arms around Suna to hold him close and from then, he pounds him roughly, chasing both their release.

Suna solves the noisy matter by sealing their lips into the messiest and hottest kiss possible; licking every corner of his lover’s mouth in an exchange that gets as slick as the one between his legs.

Suna grins through the kiss, just before his eyes roll back and he moans excessively loudly from how hard he comes between their bodies. It’s going to be a bitch to clean and they’re in for the walk of shame of their life, literally. But at least, Osamu will be holding his hand along the way.

Osamu is always there with him, for most of the best years of Suna’s life, he’s been there and for so many of his firsts. Fucking like animals in a stranger’s bed goes at the top of the _unholy_ bucket list. A list that keeps growing as they get older and bolder…

“Shit, yer so _hot_ , Rin,” Osamu moans while he hugs him through the aftermath, both of them overheating by now.

Osamu’s poor little sweatshirt is a joke when Suna thinks about how sweaty they both are, about the lube that covers his thighs and probably Osamu’s pants or the dark khôl that must be staining the bedsheets where his face got pressed a little too long, but who cares.

“We’re so _gross,_ Osamu,” he answers with a smirk, pushing himself up as he rolls his shoulders to test every muscle in his back.

The orgasm sure was relaxing, the drunken, lousy setting was a lot less. 

“Shower is fifteen minutes away,” his boyfriend comments, shrugging as his fingers trail up the smooth skin of Suna’s thighs.

“When you’re not _limping,_ it sure is, yeah.”

“Come on! Yer not gonna limp, you drama queen!”

“You don't know that. Maybe you gave me muscle sprain and killed my short career," Suna points out with a cocky grin.

"Or maybe yer gonna wriggle that little ass away so I can clean us up, give me a kiss and let me take ya home without being a 'lil shit."

Suna cocks an eyebrow before his grin grows wider.

"Getting bold, aren't you?"

"Someone's rubbin' off on me," Osamu teases.

"That someone sounds cool as fuck."

"He is. He's the most beautiful bastard in the world. But next time he tries to get me to fuck 'im in public, there will be consequences," Osamu warns.

"Dude, your dick is still half hard inside me after fucking me into next week. The threat is supposed to come _before_ that part."

They start giggling like morons right after and Suna points out how they really need to shut up but he sounds nothing but fond. 

Because he is. So fond of Osamu. So full of love for him, even when they're a pair of filthy hot-headed irresponsible idiots. Maybe even more, then, because Suna loves knowing he can go as wild as he wants and Osamu is always there to hold his hand through it. 

They're almost dressed back entirely, as disheveled as can be, and sticky in their clothes when Osamu drags Suna in a passionate kiss. Suna melts in his arms, savoring it fully now that his system has mostly cleared of the remnaining traces of alcohol. It's just perfect. 

"Consequences, uh?" he drawls lazily against Osamu's lips. 

He's too tired to even be smug. 

"Terrifying consequences," Osamu whispers back, nibbling on Suna's bottom lip. 

"You make me want to commit mischief." 

"Mmh?"

Osamu smiles against his skin, curls a hand on the side of his neck and starts trailing butterfly kisses down the other side. Suna shivers all over again, then curses under his breath when he feels a new spike of desire. 

"Take me home and I'll show you," he says as if they won't literally walk over each other to be the first to get to the shower the moment they get in Osamu's flat. 

Or will they. 

Osamu's eyes gleam in the dark with hunger when he pulls back from Suna's neck. 

Suna gulps down audibly. Okay... Maybe they won't. Maybe not right away. 

"Lead the way."

Maybe... Maybe they can still commit one more little mischief before dawn comes. 

**Author's Note:**

> No excuse. Just user pancake_surprise who enabled me unvolontarily with her party animal Suna and now we're here.
> 
> Hope you liked it? ♥


End file.
